Seven Days With Charles Xavier
by PrincessHiccup
Summary: In a world where Erik Lehnsherr didn't feel the aggression towards humans because of Charles Xavier and his ability to ground him, he agrees to stay with them in the X-Mansion. Charles is handicapped. Erik is damaged. When Raven's interest in Erik is suddenly piqued by an unknown reason, Charles has to vaguely team up with a fellow telepath. (I take no credit to the cover image.)


7 Days With Charles Xavier

AU: Normal, only Erik agreed to join Charles and live in the X-Mansion

Ship: Charik/Cherik (Charles and Erik)

Prompt: Erik is down with a sickness. (Could possibly continue in the future.)

-::-

Charles Xavier was sitting silently outside of his home, the cool breeze on his shoulders, a few bird chirps in his ears, and a deep breath in his lungs. He let it out defiantly. The buzz of other minds was radio-like in his head as he closed his eyes. The feelings of all the minds were mostly behind him within the X-Mansion; some wandered the streets. Charles leaned back, the chair creaking with discomfort. He was alone out there. The vastness in his mind is so enormous like an apteral vault. He didn't bother to check his watch, but he knew it was half past noon. He was alone out there with his voice, his shadow, and himself.

"Charles? Are you well?" a kind voice rang. It was Moira MacTaggert. Charles Xavier opened his eyes to welcome her, spinning around in the chair which he resides. She wore a kind smile with some sort of book in her hand. "I'm feeling fine, thank you" he said, "What's that? Something you need to show me?"

"Oh, no, no, this is just a book from class," she said. Charles could tell she wasn't done talking, but no words left her lips. His eyebrows tilted upward. There was a three second interval. "Well- I'll get going I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to see if you needed anything since you looked alone out here." Her words did ring with truth. He was alone, but he didn't need help. He didn't know what he needed.

Suddenly, Charles felt the pinch of migraine at his temple. Two ideas came to mind when it did.

_There's either another telepath here, or I'm just thinking too hard._

_ Or both._

A female voice. So he was right after all. He felt her mind in his own, spindly and invisible fingers digging around. Since the last he saw her, his powered had grown – flourished even. He reached back to the female telepath.

_I need to talk to you, _she uttered in his conciseness.

_ Okay, go ahead._

_ Erik Lehnsherr. Where is he? Raven has been looking for him, and I'm doing what you said. _

_ I uh- I don't know where he is-_

_ Find him._

_ I will, I will. _

There was no face in front of him throughout the conversation. Charles didn't think he would ever get used to talk to someone whom he couldn't even see. Only think out his words to them. Words through concentration.

_What does Raven want with Erik? _The question was actually rather relevant. He was a dangerous influence to the mind of the blue-skinned mutant. With a mind so easily swayed, Erik's words of encouragement could bring her down with him.

Charles aimed to keep Erik on his feet. No child, no man, no mutant should go without the training they could get. He was just like all the other gifted youngsters. So, when the others lost all hope in the infamous metallic man, Charles took that opportunity to take him and fix him up. They needed patience, care, attention to raise them, shape them, lead them.

The X-Mansion welcomed all types of people into its warm corridors with open arms. Most times. In this case, it did just once with an exception. Erik Lehnsherr was that exception. The young man ordered him to pack his bags, and move in as soon as possible. The clunky helmet came along with Erik as well. "Don't suppress your powers, but don't abuse them," Charles would tell him. He'd been around his type before. The mutants who had been damaged – traumatized. Capable of rapidly branching off to cause massive, immense calamity. Their powers could be unlimited. Godly, almost. Charles often found himself brainstorming about that fact over tea with Moira and Raven.

His mind began to drift to that day on the beach. The bombs, the salty air, the bullet. It was all too picture-perfect in his mind. Emma's voice echoed in his head again.

_She just wants to see him. No one around the mansion has seen him recently._

"Excuse me, Moira, something has come up and I need to attend to it. I'll meet you here again for tea," he spoke, words sounding phrased. It was enough to temporality placid the woman. She moved out of the way for the wheelchair-wielding man to roll by. "By the way," he said, pausing at the threshold, "Have you seen Erik?"

"Today? No, but I did see him go into his room last night. I don't think he's left it since then. Why don't you just look for his thoughts?" Her suggestion was worthy, but when he outstretched his hands, fishing for a mind, they came up with nothing.

"Thank you, Moira," Charles said, wheeling away at last.

-::-

Raven Darkholme sat across the pale-skinned in contrast Emma Frost. She found herself nibbling at the inside of her cheek when staring at Emma's gorgeous face. It wasn't fair, Raven thought, why was Emma blessed with such flawless features, and she was cursed in this blue cage. The fabric on Raven's legs was audible when she abruptly crossed her legs, seemingly both pairs of limbs crossed to form a box around her. The noise didn't even phase the telepath across from her.

They were sitting in the "tea room" across from each other over an elongated coffee table. The same phrase rang her mind,

_Mutant and proud._

She grimaced. Looking down before the telepath saw her staring, Raven grabbed a cup of tea to drink it by its bitter self. Emma noticed the contortion of her face into a look of disgust anyway. "Don't frown like that, sugar," she told her, "Your smile is so much more beautiful."

Raven stared down at the orange-brown liquid for a moment in her own mind. Before she could say it, the telepath spoke, "Yes, I do really think you're beautiful." The younger mutant pursed her lips, sinking back down into her chair shyly.

"Please don't read my mind," she murmured.

"I'm sorry, but I have to."

"Right," Raven groaned. "_Charles_ is making you follow me around so I don't hang out with Erik. That's so stupid – this is stupid; I can talk to Erik if I want." The way she said _Charles_ was as sour as it felt in her own mouth. Slowly Raven was beginning to think Emma was lying to her about actually caring. It was only her job to be around her because of _Charles._

"Stop it, Raven. Charles only wants what's best for you." Emma was right. But was Charles right for making her watch over Raven?

The girl let out an annoyed sigh.

"Maybe you should have this conversation with Charles," Emma suggested, leaning forward to take her own cup of tea. "I should." The girl uncrossed her legs and arms, pushing back on the chair to lift herself up. The sheer force of how hard she pushed back made the chair's legs rub hard friction on the wooden floors.

"Not right now." Emma was already standing. Soundlessly, she stood at Raven's side, hand gently grasping her wrist. "Charles is busy. Stay here with me."

-::-

Erik Lehnsherr's room door was closed shut. No light seeped out through the crack at the bottom or top of the door. If Charles didn't know better, he'd think no one was in there. There was a light, ghostly feeling of a mind in there. It was almost nothing like a block in his mind that locked Charles out.

Not bothering to knock, Xavier pushed on, urging the door to open.

"Hello?"

No response – only silence.

"Erik?"

A groan mumbled from far in the back of a dark, cubed room. Charles Xavier found himself standing at the doorway to Mr. Lehnsherr's room. It was pitch black in the there, but now the telepath could feel his light consciousness better. It lied inside the room where each bed was planted.

"Erik, are you sleeping?" he asked with a wry grin. "It's half past noon. You missed breakfast, Raven has- people have been looking for you, and you have a class to attend. You don't just stay here for nothing." He was displeased with Erik as if he were a child.

Another grumble came from Erik's clumsy lips. He rolled on his side, nonchalantly lifting a finger to pull on the metal lamp light cord. It made Charles wish he could manipulate metals. Now there was a soft orange light that illuminated Erik's silhouette, the metal helmet on the man's head more prominent. Sighing, Charles rolled closer to stay by the bed. The recruit's face was shiny with perspiration. It didn't take long for Charles to process that Erik was not well.

"Are you well? You certainly don't look well." Like his personality flipped, the telepath was now entirely concerned. The dim light stung Erik's vision as his eyes peeked open. They cruised around at the ceiling, then doorway before landing on Charles.

"What- I'm sleeping, go away." A kind greeting as usual.

"Are you sleeping with your helmet on— You're sleeping with your helmet on."

"Charles, I—" his sentence was hindered by raucous coughing. Charles felt himself wince at how horrid the sound was.

"God's sake, Erik! You sound like you just cleared your throat raw."

Erik looked to his nightstand seeing that his glass cup of water was now empty. Charles followed his gaze to the glass. An idea sparked.

"I kind of did. What time did you say it was?"

"Half past noon— why on earth are you sleeping with your helmet on? That cannot be comfortable." A thought crossed Charles mind only to be dismissed. "And never mind what I said earlier; you're sick, correct?"

Erik looked at him blankly. "Yes."

"Ah, I'll go prepare you some hot tea or—you drink tea, right?"

"No, Charles," he said, clasping one hand down on his friend's forearm unreservedly.

"You don't drink tea?" He was astounded.

"I assure you I'm fine. Just allergies or something; there's a high of mold in the air right now."

"I am _highly _allergic to mold, and I'm feeling just fine, my friend." He laughed genuinely happy.

"Augh, you're lucky I'm not the one with telepathy," Erik said hoarsely, the ghost of an upturned grin hovering over his lips. His friend could tell he was kidding (and not at the same time.)

"Ah, but you _are_ lucky you're the one with working legs."

Wrong answer, Charles.

Erik tensed, moving his gaze away. In the newfound light his eyes had adjusted to his surrounding room. The fact that he was handicapped didn't unsettle Erik, but the fact that if he hadn't done what he did, Charles would be fine and walking like he was the day he met him. The day he swam there beside him; legs kicking so full of life. He saved his life. He kept him grounded in that place between rage and serenity.

Finally Charles filled in the silence that Erik wouldn't fill, "I'm sorry that was… Completely bizarre I don't know what's gotten into me. Silence still remained. The feeling of claustrophobia was centering in on the magnetic man. No words left his clamped throat. "You know what, pretend I didn't say that. I-I am just going to start that over." The brunette cleared his throat.

"But if you did then you'd know I'm not letting you out of bed. You're deathly ill, my dear."

Another three second interval of Erik's coughing fit. "I'll go get you that tea now."

Before he could wheel back, a grip from Erik's mind on the wheelchair stopped him. He added, "No, wait."

Charles looked surprised to have been thwarted by his friend.

"What?"

"I prefer coffee. No decaf, please."

A smile cracked across his lips. "You know, tea is actually better for you than coffee. You should try some tea. It'll calm your mind and you can get better sleep. This time I won't wake you up again." Erik's head shook, "I am going to get up and get it myself if you—"

"Okay! Caffeinated, extra energized coffee coming right up." He still didn't move. Arms poised on the wheels. That irrevocable sly grin remain on Charles' lips. Erik blinked at him. "Well?"

"Oh, I'm just giving you more time to think."

"That's it," he breathed out, digging his bony elbows into the mattress to rise up.

"No, Erik, wait! I'm joking, I'm joking! I'll go get your coffee. Lay down or I'll make you sleep," Charles playfully warned. Even though he probably would never use his telepathy to knock him out, the idea seemed favorable. The wheels didn't squeak or screech when he smoothly rolled them back, twisting his torso so get the glassy-like chair to turn. Erik bent his neck back into a more comfortable position. He lied straight up and down, staring at the old popcorn ceiling.

-::-


End file.
